


Heartbeats

by yuurismocha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Dancing, M/M, Magic, Romance, Sickfic, There's so much angsts really, XIX century, alternative universe, based on jack and the cuckoo clock heart, medicine of the xix century, other aditional tags will be added, sort of hanahaki disease but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-17 18:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuurismocha/pseuds/yuurismocha
Summary: Yuuri touched the tiniest bouquet as delicately as possible, "they are so soft." He whispered before looking back at Victor and kissing his cheek. "How is this possibly my fault?""My mother once sat me down and told me that some people were magic," as he focused on the golden glints in Yuuri's eyes, he breathed, "that's all."-In which Victor was born on the coldest day on earth with a frozen heart. Fixing it might take away the most important thing in his life.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallyCally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallyCally/gifts).



> Yo! I live and I'm terribly sorry for my absence, had a rough year. 
> 
> Anyway, as always, I've tried to fix grammar and any other mistake but I still apologize for any disaster you might find.

“Yakov!"

The scream pierced through the walls of the big wooden house. Georgi let out another shrill fuelled by the panic, his eyes not leaving his brother’s in his arms. “Yakov! It’s Victor!” his small lungs pleaded with a cry and even when the cold wind had burnt through his throat he needed desperately to call out for help. “Yakov!”

The day hasn’t been going as planned and it was starting to catch up to Georgi that maybe he shouldn’t have insisted on going out with his siblings if Victor hadn’t wanted to go on his first request – like he had. Victor refusing to go was a weird occurrence in itself and he should have known better, that his frozen heart wouldn’t make it to yet another white and disapproving winter.

It was like Mila always said, Victor was born from the winter, on the coldest day on earth, for a reason. Maybe the tragedy he was witnessing was enough to prove that life shouldn’t be taken for granted like Victor always reprimands him. Maybe the reason why the winter brought Victor on the coldest day on earth was that it wanted a baby and they had stolen him, taken him away from the icy weather, so Victor hardly breathing in his arms, clutching his chest, was the tragedy that would take him to his parents.

Yakov arrived within seconds and after a few heartbeats he had already taken out a vaccine. Victor always got vaccinated, every week he had at least two shots that made his frail body shiver and his small pale arm bruise. Lilia said it kept him alive, so Victor didn’t mind – Georgi guessed from the way he raised his arm every morning – even when it had taken a bit longer than it should, that Victor didn’t mind.

His heart beat too fast in his ears.

The rushing made his ears feel like they were in flames.

And as he waited for Victor to react, he prayed for the winter to keep him with them.

His tears crystalized like they would on the coldest day on earth.

 

And Victor woke up.


	2. The Roaring of A Silent Sun

On the day of his twelfth birthday, Victor woke up next to a bouquet of chrysanthemums, a letter and a small bottle of blue liquid. His grogginess couldn’t process his gifts until after he got a knock on the door, mumbling a “come in” on his pillow. And as small feet pattered against the old wooden floor in his room, he knew what was coming: “Happy Birthday Vitya!” said a voice too thin and small to be from the frowning little Yuratchka.

“Ah, Thank you Yuratchka! Did mama help you with my gift?” Little Yuri Plisetsky was fixated on Victor since he arrived. Whether it was because of Victor’s long hair or because he had energy enough to play around with the kid, Yuri was like Victor’s puppy, following and copying him wherever he could (which was always).

Both, Victor and Yuri, hadn’t found a family that could adopt them yet. In fact, they were far from getting adopted what with Yuri’s personality being “troublesome” and Victor’s delicate heart being “too much”, they had learned to lean on each other. That and Mila was too excited about going away from Russia to actually think about being adopted, so she was constantly following them around.

They were four before Georgi got adopted, but even after his adoption, his older brother still visited no matter what he did. The three out of four left though, would help at home, constantly chatting about their dreams, quite different from the other kids sheltered under Yakov and Lilia’s wings.

“Mama did your gift all by herself.” He silently watched it, with big green eyes like a small owl had entered his room and sat on his legs. “Open it! Maybe this time we can go to the city together!” Victor chuckled, not believing in Yuratchka’s dream. “Open!”

He obeyed, letting the small kid in his arms smell the bouquet and then opening the letter. “What does it say?” Yuri asked curiously. “You’re so slow!”

Inside the small card was written, what he never thought he would read.

_Happy twelfth Birthday, Vitya!_

_For you to continue your dreamed life we need you to know three important rules._

  1. _Every Wednesday of every week, you must take your Vitamins. No matter what, carefully you’ll be able to take care of your own fragile heart._
  2. _Control your emotions. Your emotions will make your heart beat faster and faster and it might damage everything we’ve done to make you get this far._
  3. _Refrain, by all means, to fall in love. Love will alter the small flowers that keep you alive inside of your heart, please take care of them._



_These said, get ready and go downstairs, Yakov is taking you to the library in the city so you can get a few books._

Never had he ever let out a scream of excitement so loud. Yuri covered his ears as Victor rambled on how he was finally seeing St. Petersburg! The city! No more outskirts! No more field work! Books and studies and  _the school! The books!_ Victor was  _thrilled._

He had begged for so long to go to the city! Walk around like he knew what was life, know what was to be normal, loved. He had begged to see the library Mila always talked about, he wanted to see the city so badly – and it was finally coming true.

“You’re so cold, Vitya! Are you stupid?!” Yuratchka screeched from his room as he ran downstairs, stopping shortly after and running back up trying to get ready as fast as he could on his oversized woollen sweater, grabbing pins and a blue ribbon, old enough to keep his hair in place through the infinity strands of silver. Yuri ran behind him, taking the straws from the flower and handing them to Victor. “Don’t waste flowers! Use them!”

Victor laughed and added the flowers to the small braid he had done in the back of his head. “Yakov!” He let his voice fill the empty kitchen, enchanting his way to his parental figures. “Is it true?!” His eyes gleamed like pure frozen eyes reflecting the sun’s rays. “I’m going to the city?” His hopes and dreams have appeared since he first read books about the beautiful St. Petersburg, he couldn't hold in his excitement even if he tried.

“Are you ready?” Yakov’s voice was always stern, though no matter how much he tried there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at the kids that stayed with him, especially when talking to Victor. “We’re leaving right now.”

Victor tugged at his sweater and put on his old boots, tugging at his too short pants trying to cover his fragile body from the merciless cold outside the city. Gulping before stepping outside to a whole new world, even when he had stepped outside daily, he let out a shiver full of nervous sparks. He closed his eyes, feeling, listening to the small voice of the city from far away.

He looked up at Yakov, even when the height difference wasn’t so noticeable lately, and didn’t even wait for him to step out of the door to run down the track to the crowded city that waited for him. His heart could resist it, his heart could beat healthily in his chest, he could  _run._ He could _laugh, live._ No matter how neglected his life and love had been over his young twelve years. Victor could  _breathe_ the new life glowing inside St. Petersburg.

Growing inside a house so far away from the city, working in the field, helping with Lilia’s flower garden to take care of the people who seek help from them. Nothing, no matter how much that had helped him to keep him alive, nothing could compare to the city. There’s so much he can do,  _so much_ , he had dreamed of this day for so  _long._

It’s like the world had called for him to discover it. No matter what took, even the coldest day on earth the day he was born, the world had called his name. “Can we get two books?” He wondered out loud, before Yakov’s negative shut his wish down. “Are we- Oh! Are we going to walk the down the streets?” He tugged at Yakov’s tux. “Mila said there was a circus! Can we go? I want to see it!”

“It’s going to snow, Vitya, the circus doesn’t come in freezing days like this.” Victor nodded. He understood, not only because according to the books he read circuses were a bit strange by this time of the year, but because Yakov knew more about the city than Victor would ever know.

And after a few more runs and playing in the snow, he saw it.

St. Petersburg, dressed in white, especially there to meet Victor. The streets were covered in the softest snow Victor had ever touched. People screamed what they sold on the market’s street and a few shared a few words with Yakov. The labyrinth of small and big shops and houses creeping up touching the sky. BIG! SO, SO BIG! He wants to run, discover every little space in the streets. The trees are no longer made of wood but of ice, all frozen with little ribbons with dangling frozen drops of snow and snowflakes. The snowflakes! They were so beautiful in the windows, the corners so, so full of them!

Men wear beautiful suits and sweaters, woollen jackets and black hats to cover their probably crescendo foreheads. Woman wear beautiful dresses, full of colours and different patterns as they walk down the street trying to cover their bodies from the cold. People remind him of the flowers in his home’s garden, all beautiful and unique. Kids are fooling around, trying to catch birds or escaping from some funny thing they did to some merchants. The city is like dreamed it to be and more, so much more! He loved it, the way everyone knew how to deal with the surprise that was every day’s tired lifestyle.

Suddenly the church’s bells startled him to death, shaking his body, feeling his heart press to his lungs and chest as if it had to skip a beat to grow in a few seconds of fear.

_Imagine finding love, it must be painful for your heart._

The third rule comes to mind when he thought about how his heart beat painfully in his chest the second time the bells of the church sounded around the city.

When he looks for Yakov, that’s when he notices he is lost.

Oh, so lost in the maze of St. Petersburg and the merchants and the flower women and the tux men and the screams and the cold and bread and fruit and life and birds, the church, the steps in the streets.

It was only when he heard a small voice in the crowd, he felt safe.

“Welcome everyone! Please let me show you!” the small kid yelled. His grey eyes were captivating for Victor, his heart feeling curiosity towards what the small kid wanted to show the adults that gathered around him and his companion. “Soleil!”

The small kid behind him left his glasses in hands of his friend and started dancing, showing Victor that he had never, ever, heard what real life was. He used to believe it was the singing of birds in the morning, or Yuri’s screams, Mila’s laugh. After all those years, he believed, he had found what life and peace sounded in the dancing of the kid in front of him. A silent dance was the sound of life, the roaring of a million suns.

No, the roaring of a silent sun, the brightest sun.

His friend started singing then, with a sweet tempo and melody, following  _Soleil’_ s body music. The song was soft, hopeful and full of life. Life like Victor had never seen before. Raw, new, full of fear and yet so strong and determined to keep going. Soleil’s body kept him on balance even when his eyes were delicately closed, and it was  _magic._

Growing up with Yakov and Lilia made him learn about magic, how plants could help you fix most everything. He knew how to spell some potions and make the herbs and flowers magical and healing, but nothing as magical as Soleil’s dancing. His small body created music with his own innocent moves.

He was telling the story of him dreaming and how he needed his glasses to see his dreams clearly. And even though that, his dreams of knowing and be known would never be true. It was sad, but also beautiful so Victor stepped closer.

And closer.

So much closer.

He noticed he was soon following Soleil’s steps through the different, more rapid and complicated steps as if Soleil’s quiet voice was enough to enthral him to a state where he knew how to dance something aside from ballet. His heart thumping in his chest, pounding strongly like it never had before.

Their dance soon wasn’t a copy of the other but rather something more like them, something that was of them only and people around them disappeared in the background edges of his vision. His veins were on fire, beating as if his heart was running in his blood and it was so fascinating, feeling the rush of energy, feeling the need of more, so much more.

He jumped and twirled and let Soleil shine bright, let him shine like he deserved. The kid’s surprised face was soon vanished and turned into a small smile that shook Victor through the core. No other kid at home had smiled so purely, so beautiful and at peace. Was the city so enchanting? Was it Victor? Or was it the way they could perform without even knowing each other? Whatever it was, Victor needed to feel more.

His heart felt suddenly too heavy and, as Soleil got near him, it sped up to a rush. It burned inside his chest like fire, his skin felt itchy and his head was no longer able to discern where he was, where his steps were going. The edges of his vision turned black and the only thing that caught light was Soleil’s worried face. He didn’t want to worry him, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate with him, his throat tightly closed in a vice invisible grip.

His legs felt starry, like small fireworks flashing through their insides and he felt, his head cushioned by his own arm and nothing could hurt like the fire in his chest, the skin, the heartbeats, everything hurt so badly. He needed Yakov, Lilia...

What was wrong?

-

He woke up again in one of Yakov’s office beds. The candlelight in the room was too bright in the dark. For a brief moment he thought he had dreamed again of going to the city, so vividly it scared him. But the night before his birthday he was definitely wearing his sleepwear rather than his everyday clothes. “You’re awake!” Yuri chirped from next to him and before Victor could say anything he ran to look for Yakov, screaming on his way.

The magic left after dancing still tingled like sparks inside of him, with a fascination that made him shiver. He could still feel the touch of Soleil, who created music with his body. The dancer had so much in him, magic, pureness,  _life_. It was real, he had visited the city, been there,  _danced_ there!

Mila popped her head inside the office and eyed him, examined him, fearful eyes turned into a smug knowing smile and she giggled, making Victor laugh with glee. “Isn’t the city fascinating? It took your heart away!” Mila’s wonderstruck eyes could reflect the same feeling inside Victor and though his chest felt sore and ached he laughed even harder. “It reminds you of how alive you are.”

It was truly sad, for kids their age to feel dead, even when they didn’t have a sad life. But it happened in a monotonous life when they all depended on something. “I can’t believe I have survived without living for so long.”

“Unless you don’t follow the rules you won’t be able to be there.” Yakov’s voice interrupted them. “You should not be careless when it comes to your heart Vitya.” He sat next to him and uncovered the small patch on top of his chest, which he noticed was actually uncovered. “Mila, go to your room.” Mila rapidly followed the order, scared of what she would see if she stayed. Her curiosity had limits, it seemed.

“This,” Yakov pointed to a small, probably harmless, pimple in the left side of his chest, “is a flower.” Victor’s eyebrows raised in concern.

“What?”

“It’ll bloom in a few days, probably in less.” He covered the little pimple again, adding to a small syringe just a bit of the blue liquid he got for his birthday, which he hadn’t paid too much attention back then. “You know why this is happening right?”

“Because I was born with a frozen heart, Lilia decided to save me, implanting chrysanthemums inside my heart so it could have the life like it should.” He repeated with a deadpan stare, trying not to roll his eyes. Those where the exact words he had been listening for so long. The surgery he had to go through was probably the very first one on earth and the only one. Lilia took care of making the plants and flowers in her garden work magically, Yakov implanted them on people’s bodies, fixing it. He was always fascinated by how the human body could adapt to the magical little herbs and let them heal it. Thankful they kept him alive.

“Because of the small chrysanthemum in there, your heart is beating, got that? You just can’t go around the city and take it to the limit. The second new rule was very explicit, Vitya,” He sighed. “Control your emotions, if you don’t, more of this will bloom and block your heart, making it stop.” Yakov looked into his eyes and made him feel considerably worried about his health for the very first time. “Don’t hate them though, these little flowers saved you. By taking it too far you’ll fasten the speed of their growth.”

“I’ll take care.” He decided he would, no matter what happened, he would try to stay in control. He obeyed the raised eyebrow Yakov had, quietly asking for his abused arm. “This medicine will slow their growth. Take it discretely, it can slow your heart if you take it too much in a short period of time.” The needle entered painfully in his vein and he tried to control the whimper in his throat.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” Victor waved him off and sighed, letting the medicine work in his body. “Lilia made you some hot chocolate,” he smiled, genuinely this time. “You’re still grounded. You  _don’t_ leave my side when we go to the city.” Victor nodded. “Almost died in there, I don't know if you or me first yet though." He chuckled. "Either way, I’ll leave you to get ready. Yuratchka is waiting for you to get better.”

Even after the talk, there was something inside Victor’s heart, heavier than it had been in the city. As if it were longing for more. He guessed he wanted to see more, explore more…

Meet more.

-

The next time he went to the city was the following summer. Mila’s birthday celebration was to go shopping for some new dress and Lilia had decided it was also time for Victor and Yuri to get new clothes. “You’re growing like little weeds, you must take better care of your clothes.” Victor had nodded, he kept good care of his clothes, they were nice and warm and fresh in summer, kept him warm when he slept and when his temperature rivalled the winter. He adored them.

He had been able to get better from the tiny flower in his chest, getting used to the fabric of his shirts delicately hugging and protecting it from the eyes of everyone. His hair had grown so much more, cascading to his hips and carefully bright due to Mila’s care and Lilia’s medicinal herbs.

“Oh lord!” Mila stopped short from where Victor was next to their parents and pointed to the big painted board that was in the middle of the street. “ _Il circo magico_! At school, there are a few kids who work here!” Yakov’s look was questioning but didn’t say a thing. “They call it,” emphasizing with her hands in the air she squealed: “The greatest circus on earth!” She looked so excited stars where in her eyes trying to convey how excited she was to see a show.

“They are selling tickets huh?” Lilia looked over at them sternly. Before sighting and nodding over to the ticket booth that was a few blocks. “You better not fight at all this  _month_ , I’m talking to you boys.” She said and directed Victor and Yuri a look before turning around not catching them gulping their nervousness.

They had some minutes to spare before the show started and Victor used them to listen to the kids around him. Ever since Mila had started to attend the school he had wanted to go too. Lilia had taught him how to read, write, maths, science and Yakov had taught him about history. He was in some way being schooled at home. He didn’t like it, he wanted to know  _more_ , interact in a school like Mila tells him she does before they go to sleep.

He wanted to go to the school and talk in class, read and do homework. His health had been great lately and he hadn’t felt like as fragile as he had felt before the bloom of his first flower. He was in perfect health, he could deal with going to school, he could deal with a small pressure. He could run like he did every morning, jump and play, his body finally adapting to what it truly needed.

He tucked the need to ask for permission for later.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Someone yelled from the middle of the stage, the voice enthralled Victor, making his eyes focus on the lights going around and the drum rolls. “Welcome to the greatest circus on earth!” The man had a tall hat a bit larger than Yakov’s, hiding curls and curls of hair in a ponytail. “My name is Celestino and I’ll be at your service today!”

As the show started Victor noticed that the people working in the circus trusted each other wholeheartedly. There were men and women jumping in the air, playing with fire, dancing with knives, a little boy who controlled lions with a man and some clowns Victor didn’t really like. “And last but not least! Our most precious boy in town! Soleil!”

Victor’s heart skipped a beat, his hands started warming up and his heart sped up rushing through his ears, beating strongly inside his chest. He looked at the stage expectantly, looking at the curtains that lead to the backstage. The dancer was nowhere in sight, maybe it wasn’t the one he met months prior, but he had a feeling deep in his heart and chest.

A piano started playing shyly behind the stage and Soleil, appeared at the top of the stage, grabbing a trapeze in his hands before jumping, holding himself from it with one hand. With enough impulse he jumped high enough to flip in the air. He was not wearing the same shirt he wore back in the day he first saw him. He had a different sort of shirt, baggy on the sleeves, it variated from blue to green almost like Victor’s eyes (but he felt like he was pushing it too hard if he thought that).

Soleil’s moves made him not want to take his eyes off him, scared that if he did he would miss something more fascinating than the move before. Glued to Soleil like he needed him to breathe he felt an icky feeling in his arms as if only his arms and legs had suddenly started having more blood than normal. He felt another burning feeling, like fire, like the day his first flower bloomed.

He breathed in and out, trying to control his pounding heart and focused only on the music, only in the waltz that played around him. He didn’t want to but knew it was necessary for his health to close his eyes, breathe in, focus on the highs and downs of the music and breathe out. And even when his throat started feeling like it would cut his supplies of air, it relaxed.

The roar of applause woke him up from his enchantment, his heart beating back to normal and his eyes focused on the way the kid blushed before saluting. He looked exhausted but also thrilled, yet again full of life and innocence. He looked like looking for something so far away he couldn’t see it and tried so hard to see. Squinting his big doe eyes, Soleil looked around before spotting what he wanted and waved his hand. Disappearing right after he did behind the big red curtains.

“Idiot!” Yuratchka screamed. “He looked at you when he was in the air! He looked at you and he couldn’t continue the show because you had your eyes closed!”

_Oh no._

_He had lost the most important part of Soleil’s show._

_Lord forgive him._

Mila’s laugh filled his ears before he could answer. “Victor was in love with the dancer.” She snickered before standing up next to Lilia. “He couldn’t take his eyes off him.”

“He’s not in love, what do you kids even think being in love means? It’s not only because Victor was surprised. There’s so much more about love that can drive you to decisions you thought you would never choose in another life.” Lilia sighed, “you’re all too young to even think or consider being in love so enjoy your quiet lives before it’s time for that.”

Yakov stood up, guiding them through the small crowded place to outside. “There’s nothing else that requires us here does it?” The small chat Yakov and Lilia were having was clouded by the small sparks Victor caught with the corner of his eyes. He looked over at his small family, trying to figure out how much time it will take them to discuss what to do next before heading home.

_Enough to go backstage._

Backstage was another world.

Everything shinned, from the small lights bulbs that were in front of the girls to the cages the lions were sleeping in. People around seemed busy, too busy to notice him looking at the kid in front of the lions. “Soleil?” The kid turned around with a slight jump. In the dim light, he could see his brown eyes glinting with gold framed by round-rimmed glasses. “I, I wanted to tell you that I love how you dance.” The kid blinked, and he looked a bit confused for a second before letting out a quiet “thank you.”

“Do you remember me?” hopeful, Victor felt his little chrysanthemums spark.

“On Christmas?” The slight accent made Victor confused, or maybe Soleil was confusing him with someone else. “I like your hair.” He said after a while.

“Thanks! It’s because I was born on the coldest day on earth.” The kid’s eyes grew incredibly big in surprise before smiling. “What are you doing here?” Soleil pointed at a box under the lions. There were two puppies, sleeping one on top of the other.

“Dogs. I like dogs.” The kid’s Russian was rusty like he was just learning it. He didn't mind, it made him even more adorable. Victor got near the dogs, petting each as cautiously as he could.

“Soleil! I told you not to keep the dogs in here!” The showman from before appeared from behind them, towering over them with authority. “Take them out! Kid, we’re sorry but we don’t have space for one more so go look for your parents. We’re about to close.” Celestino’s (According to what he had said earlier) back turned to them rapidly and Soleil looked so close to tears Victor felt his heart jump dangerously yet again.

“I can take them! Or! I can keep one of them!” Victor’s voice wavered, reaching Celestino’s ears making him turn again to them. “Soleil can only keep one.” He stated before leaving them again.

“I’ll take care of this one.” Victor grabbed the fluffy brown puppy in his arms and let it sleep in there, “What’s her name?”

“Makkachin,” Soleil’s voice sounded happy through the tears and he smiled.

“I’ll take care of her then!”

Yakov’s voice rumbled through the empty stage calling his name and sadly Victor knew it was time to go. He turned around to look at Soleil petting the small fluff in his hands and smiled.

“I’ll see you again, Soleil.”

 

 


	3. Silver turns to ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the filler chapter because this had to be pushed out of me. A (chronic) migraine is not good for writing and it def killed what I really wanted to write here. So seriously, I apologize for this chapter but it had to be done so I could go to the fun parts

“I want to go to school.”

Victor’s squeaky voice silenced the dining room one summer night. It had taken him a few weeks to plan every word he would say to negotiate with Yakov and Lilia about it. Every little scenario that could take him to a whole new world of questions was thoroughly analysed and had a few practised answers if they were presented to him. He was ready, he wanted to go there. He had waited patiently, two years exactly. He was probably making himself go crazy inside the orphanage, taking care of the kids, learning things out of what Chris had said, books he had read.

“Soleil, he’s in Yuratchka’s class,” Mila informed him the day she had arrived from ballet she was no longer a kid. Mila Bavicheva had grown to be a beautiful mischievous woman, with only twelve years under her belt, she either had to go to Ballet or stay at home with Lilia. Victor’s still wonderstruck eyes gleamed at the opportunity to actually share some time with Soleil, after some years he hadn’t really forgotten about him. “I want to meet him.”

Mila giggled. “Well he’s really shy, can barely look at people in the eye before having trouble managing his blush. Very intelligent, my friends say he’s really cute, loves animals and dancing – apparently so.” Her voice was so faint in his mind as he imagined Soleil in his uniform, hiding from crowds yet shining so brightly he couldn’t even help people looking at him.

Now, the public school wouldn’t really care to have Victor in class with the other elder students, he will learn about how to build things, choose his future. Hell, maybe he could choose to be a veterinarian for sure. Maybe he could go to the veterinarian college.

He really wanted to be able to help dogs (particularly) and other animals. In fact, he could work at _circuses_. It all had started the day he met Soleil, he had planned on staying home and help his parents, no school required, no college required. Then Soleil opened this magical world to him. He had a life to live, the first step was school. It would be a Bonus to be in the same class as Soleil, but he would be okay with just being in the same school.

He had planned everything, except the presence of Mr Giacometti and his son Christophe.

The Giacometti’s were always home, whether it was from Christophe’s broken heart or his father’s broken ankle, there was always something to fix. That night it was mostly a check up on the small succulent growing on the father’s ankle. “You don’t want that,” Christophe laughed, “people just don’t like school, we hate it!” he exclaimed from his sit on the table. His best friend was ruining the plan, but that didn’t quite stop Victor’s fragile heart to pump eagerness into his body.

“Well, Victor is definitely not kidding apparently.” His father piped in. “I can help you kid, but I don’t think you can get in this year,” His voice was tender, yet full of concern, looking at Yakov as if asking if what he was saying was alright.

“I really want to go.” Victor wanted to beg, but he knew that wouldn’t work, that never worked with Lilia, much less with Yakov. “I’ll try everything, I swear, I can do it. I’ll control myself, I can. If I want to work, I have to go to school or no one will take me seriously.”

“We can talk about that later, Vitya.” Lilia looked at him sternly, and surprisingly for everyone in the table, he obeyed.

The food was suddenly tasteless, and he felt his chrysanthemum flutter inside his shirt. He wondered if his little flower captured emotions. The tiny thing, that little tiny flower that kept him alive, was nourished with vitamins (and, Victor guessed, his emotions). It would help his heart if he controlled them, the faster his heart pumped blood, the faster his flower develop and the nearer his end. “ _Don’t let your sadness win, Vitya,_ ” Yakov had recommended a few weeks prior. He had felt fatigated and with no energy when he was told he wouldn’t go to the city. “ _Sadness will kill you._ ”

He sighed and thought about Makkachin.

The dog was no longer a little puppy, she was more like a huge puppy who believed that she was still able to do all the things she could do when she was the size of a puppy. Yakov had screamed and fought with every conceivable way he could, and Victor hadn’t listened. He hid Makkachin in his bed, slept with little Makkachin under the covers.

It wasn’t until Makkachin barked as she should, that his parents found out about the dog on his bed. “Are you serious about this dog?” Lilia had asked, and Victor had replied immediately, still sure of keeping the dog Soleil had given him. Nodding, eagerly, Victor promised to keep the dog out of the visits view (which didn’t work), from the kids who were going to be adopted (which didn’t work out either) and to prevent baby Makka from peeing on the flowers (which had been magically successful).

Dinner passed painfully slow until Mila and Lilia cleaned the table, the Giacometti’s retreated to the guest room and Yakov had taken every kid from the small living room to bed.

It used to be Victor’s dream, to be adopted.

Yakov and Lilia had always presented him, always suggest he was lovely, very healthy, he was intelligent. But no one would receive him, it was either his hair, or the way he talked too much, or he was too big for a baby, or his mother was probably someone unholy. He used to dream that he was born out of the snow. The day he was born was the coldest one on earth for a reason, and he had been found; he never knew his biological parents.

“Parents are the one who raises you,” Georgi had told him one night, hugging him tightly. So tight Victor guessed he would burst. He cried himself to sleep, all tiny and skinny and his hair reflecting the moon like the frozen lagoon near their _home._ Georgi had hugged him all through the night, he never cared about Victor’s hair, or the way the freckles on his back looked like constellations of little snowflakes. “I love you because you are my brother, whether I’m raised by papa and mama or my new parents. I grew up with you. You were the baby that stole my toys, the baby that cried when I cried, that followed me around even if I was born a day after you.”

“I love you,” Victor had told him, “You’re the only brother I have.”

Mila was still a toddler, still lonely and separated. They knew she was one of them, one of their team the moment she first got rejected. Years later, when baby Mila was no longer a baby and wondered why she wasn’t adopted, Victor had done the same. He had cradled her in his arms and let her sleep, humming the same old song Georgi had sang to him.

_Hush, my little one_

_I will protect you from the fear_

_From the wind and the bad_

_From the lions and the nightmares_

_And when we have had enough_

_We will sing_

_To me, to you_

_For us, the loved ones_

_For us, the special ones_

_Hush your tears and close your eyes_

_I’m here, you’ve got me._

They were all they have, Victor knew, he had to protect his heart. He knew what everyone feared, that school would be too much for him, that he wouldn’t be able to do it.

He just had to prove them that they could trust him.

-

“Victor,” Lilia called from Yakov’s office, waiting for him to follow them into the small square room. “You’ve asked us this so many times.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry.”

“You don’t have to.” Yakov’s sounded sad, nostalgic even. “I know you, Vitya, you can’t stay focused for more than a few minutes on something you hate.”

“I can.” He insisted. Not looking directly into Yakov’s eyes, he knew it was his weakness, he already knew so much, he didn’t have to _go_ to school. “I really want to be normal, go to school, college, have friends.”

Victor hadn’t intended on confessing such deep thought. He knew he wasn’t normal, whether it was his hair, his eyes or his heart – he just wasn’t. He had had enough time to understand such thing. Whether it was the parents, the people, he has never heard someone say something good about him.

“Do you really think a school would help you?”

He sure did.

The day he goes to school is cold. Not even the fact that it was the middle, almost end, of summer made the grey clouds disappear. The sky was so grey that something inside Victor made him slow down and wander around the other people. They looked dead, and he didn’t know if it was out of exhaustion or because it was truly the worst day to start school.

The uniform is itching his chest, his little flower popping out of his front pocket. Lilia had cut and design the uniform so it’s rough texture wouldn’t damage the extension of his heart. Aside from how extremely uncomfortable it was, he was excited about his very first day of school. Walking down the streets of St. Petersburg was too beautiful and enchanting to even consider not going.

The school itself didn’t hold any magic, or any amusing thing that called Victor’s attention. The big grey walls looked like a prison and the dullness of every student move made him shiver from how cold it could be. A winter at the end of summer. “You can still change your mind, Victor.” Yakov had told him by the entrance. Mila had already left, and he was the only one left outside.

“I’ll be okay, Yakov.”

“Control your emotions, Vitya. We’ll be here.” Victor nodded, silently praying that Soleil could make it into his classroom. Maybe he’ll get to see him during the breaks, maybe he’s taller, maybe he’s even more beautiful. Maybe he shined as brightly as the day they met.

“Thank you.”

He stepped into the school, silently, trying not to call much attention but doing so anyway. Everyone was staring at him. It was probably his hair or the lively blue in his eyes. It was probably the way his milky skin was paler than theirs, or how everyone knew that he was that boy from the Feltsman house up and aside from the city. He was the leftover, the kid that no one had wanted from the Feltsman’s orphanage. The kid who fainted in the middle of the street not so long ago.

He had lived in Russia, St. Petersburg, all his life – yet he felt like a foreigner.

Classes had been interesting the first few hours. The kids were mostly silent, like they were too scared to move, to say something unless they were required to. He had wanted to participate in one of his classes and Professor Petrov had _growled_ eyeing him as if there was some sort of demon. Not scared, no, he wanted to destroy him. Christophe had watched him, giving him a warning look.

 During their only break, Victor had grabbed the apple from his backpack sat next to Chris on a bench and braided his hair. “You were right,” he sighed, “this is really, really boring.”

“I told you so.”

“I- I liked science.”

“You like to take care of horses?” Chris giggled. His laugh was amusing, interesting, something Victor looked for in their conversations. He wondered what Soleil’s real laugh was like. Maybe soft, maybe loud or maybe he hid it behind his hands.

All of a sudden, a few of the older classmates were running past them and laughing obnoxiously. He had pointed them out as people he didn’t want to talk to at all. Dmitri Ivanov was a very tall kid, a bit chubby and very strong. When Victor saw him, he swore he could pick up his desk with everyone’s notebooks on the side.

“Shit.” Chris stood up and run to where Dmitri was, desperately trying to push him off from the body he was kicking. Victor knew how strong Chris was, he could barely lift Makkachin. On the other hand, Victor could lift Makkachin and had several fights with Yuri, Ivan Medvedev (one of the orphans) and Mila.

And Mila’s kicks were stronger than any smack Yakov could have ever give.

So, he ran, trying to save whoever that was on the floor. He punched and pushed and barely remembers what and who he kicked. He felt Dmitri’s arm about to push him out of his way and he bit him. Like Mila did when she was younger. Like he couldn’t protect the victim more, his chest was starting to press against his lungs and a needle was rhythmically pinching his flower’s roots.

The last thing he saw was Dmitri’s hand, probably about to knock him out after his heart failed.

-

When he woke up he was in the infirmary, in the small white, hard, bed.

He was not alone in the bed though, there was someone sobbing in his chest and that wasn’t Chris, nor someone from his family. He slowly patted the kid’s head, something Yakov did when he was crying on his chest. “Nikiforov.” The kid mumbled before looking up.

And, oh, Victor could never forget those eyes, glinting with gold.

He wanted to laugh, to cry and to scream. Mila was right, Soleil was in school! Someone he admires is in school!

“Victor Nikiforov.” Soleil’s accented Russian turned angry and Victor wondered what he had done wrong this time. There Soleil was, again, surprising him yet again. “Are you a masochist? Do you like- Do you like fainting in the streets?! Are you stupid?! They could’ve killed you!”

He blinked.

The last thing he remembered the one being beat to death was Soleil, not him.

Soleil’s eyes darkened, and his thick brows furrowed angrily as if he had said that out loud. Maybe he had.

“I deserved it! You don’t!” He cried again. “Don’t get into my business when you don’t even know what you’re getting into!” Soleil’s nose scrunched up before he sobbed. “Victor Nikiforov, don’t try to save something already broken!”

“Soleil, you knew Russian all this time?” Soleil stood up from the bed with a small sniff, rearrange his uniform and turned around to look at him, eyes red and swollen.

“stop calling me that.” He mumbled.

“Sorry?”

“My name is not Soleil, it’s Yuuri.” He wiped his cheeks and sniffed again. “Stop calling me that.”

“I didn’t know your name, sorry.”

“Da.”

They stayed silent, waiting for the other to talk but neither comfortable to be next to the other. Soleil’s cheekbone was bruised, and he crossed his arms, protecting his stomach which was probably as purple.

“I’m sorry, I bothered you and your friend,” Yuuri’s voice was so soft he almost didn’t.

“You didn’t.”

“Da.” He looked up. “Your hair is nice.”

“Thanks.” He looked for something he could compliment Yuuri with, but everything in him was beautiful and he couldn’t decide. “I, I like your glasses.”

Before Soleil could talk the nurse had walked in with her dead body, voice and eyes. She looked over at them and called Yuuri, leaving them alone.

 

Soleil never came back.

Yuuri never showed up again.

 -

 

Rapidly, Victor found out what people from the city loved and hated. Kids were mean and extremely cruel with the skinny, fragile people like him, and he was tired of it. He would constantly fight and lose against them. Always defending others but always, always being the one who needed defending.

He really didn’t know why and his small group of friends were so violent, not until he noticed something. Dmitri had repeatedly said, “it’s your fault the sun is gone.”

Yes, it was his fault, he brought freezing days.

It was his fault some people died on the coldest day on earth.

It was his fault Yuuri left.

 

He paid no mind to his bruises, nor to every insult he got. He didn’t care about his high grades or the way some girls seemed to like him, constantly looking from windows that separated them. He watched them do ballet in the evenings, jumping his history class, but no one could ever dance like Yuuri.

One day, Dmitri had found Victor watching and had yanked his long ponytail harshly, making his scalp burn with the tug. “Nikiforova,” he gritted out. “You want to be a girl and that’s disgusting.”

“You are just jealous I’m so beautiful and you’re like a mutt.” As soon as his words left his mouth, Victor regretted the decision. Dmitri had scissors in his hands and he pulled his hair so strongly he knows some strands had been pulled off.

“This is nothing, Nikiforova.” He grunted like a beast and it made his whole body shiver.

His hair started to fall into pieces on the ground. Dmitri was laughing as soon as he saw his face. It was disgusting, the worst thing that Victor had ever had to go through. He had been a good boy, as much as he tried. He had been perfect, and no one loved him.

The silver strands soon lost their shine and became black.

“You’re a monster.” Spitted Dmitri before running away.

It had hurt so badly, he felt naked.

There was no one he could run to. He wished desperately for a hug, for someone who could comfort him. But mama wouldn’t pick him up right away, and papa was working. He had never felt so alone…

Sobbing quietly, he picked up his hair from the floor and before anyone could notice (nor that someone would care) he run as fast as he could, his tired legs carrying him home by memory, his eyes burned with tears and he had felt so small. His heart had beat so fast.

He never wanted to go back to school again.

-

The worst day of his life came when he was 24.

Yuri’s cat, Potya, had gotten so ill he needed to get some medicine to cure him. He had taken Makkachin with him and careless of the bad feeling inside of him, he went to the city. It never failed to amaze him how wonderfully beautiful it was. The city held bad memories, but it was never ugly. It was so beautiful, especially in winter. St Petersburg looked like a wonderland, full of magic and mystery when it was covered in white.

It was so silent, so silent.

He was deep inside it, walking next to Makkachin, cheerfully humming a song when he heard footsteps, children coming running towards him. It wasn’t a rare occurrence. Makkachin was a beautiful dog, her fur was protected with a little hood Mila had done for her.

He should have noticed sooner, one of the kids resembling his bully.

He should have ordered Makkachin to stay in her sit.

Before he could even react, the annoying kid had pulled Makkachin’s ear just like Dmitri had pulled his hair. Makka had evidently reacted by pure instinct and bite the kid's hand. Blood trickling from the kid's hand, the child had screamed, “You will pay! You will pay!”

People started going out to see what was happening.

“My dad will kill you!”

He didn’t know if the kid was being serious.

“He’ll find you and kill you.”

 

He did the first thing he knew he could do,

He ran.

He packed his things, he grabbed the vitamins he had to take.

He wrote a letter to Yakov and Lilia, the best parents he could have ever asked for.

He wrote a letter to Yuri, to Mila, to Georgi.

He packed Makkachin’s hood.

He ran and took the first train that could take him out of the city.

And he never came back.

 


End file.
